


Take me home

by RositaLG



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Homesickness, Loneliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 11:39:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9894938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RositaLG/pseuds/RositaLG
Summary: She had meant for it to be flirty, perhaps entice his inherent desire to follow a lead (he was an Inspector after all) but she found she needn’t have spoken the phrase at all: traces of him haunted her everywhere she went.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fire_Sign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Sign/gifts).



> I was planning on posting this later, but then saw the onslaught of angsty birthday fic for Fire_Sign and thought today might be better. So, happy birthday Fire_Sign and thanks for the tsunami of fic to read!

_Come after me, Jack Robinson._

She had meant for it to be flirty, perhaps entice his inherent desire to follow a lead (he was an Inspector after all) but she found she needn’t have spoken the phrase at all: traces of him haunted her everywhere she went.

A fedora bobbing in a busy crowd.

A man at the bar in a blue suit.

The smell of pomade on the local bellhop.

Worse than the glimpses of a Jack that didn’t exist were the gaping holes where he used to reside. She’d stopped drinking whiskey to unwind at the end of her long days because just a taste of it sent a twinge through her chest that she found, to borrow another memory of him, unbearable. And when she was tired and petulant and began to push people’s buttons, there was no one to put her back in her place. Instead, she was always met with a concise “Yes, Miss Fisher” and even that upset her, because the name never sounded the same rolling off someone else’s tongue.

She rubbed her eyes, wondering how she had become this person. He’d never asked for her to change, but somehow, she had become dependent on him all the same.

When Jack stood in her parlor that night after Gertie’s crash, she had seen all the warning signs that she spent a lifetime guarding herself against, chiefly among them changing her personality to suit a man’s whims. She would not heed someone else’s calls to be different, nor let him mold her into something she was not. She was her own person and always would be. And if that hurt him, or if he couldn’t handle that, then it was better to know sooner rather than later, no matter how much disappointment it caused her.

But for all his stability, Jack had surprised her. He hadn’t wished to control her; in fact, quite the opposite. He had insisted she walk free.

And she hated it.

And she hated herself for hating it.

And she hated him for causing it all in the first place.

She’d felt the same hole then, the gap in her life where he was meant to be. They had managed to move forward together though, more or less, and just when things were finally beginning to heat up, she’d been ripped away by the winds of fate.

So now, here she was: stuck in the middle of India with the entire world at her feet, longing for a man half a world away. There was only one thing to do. She settled down and prepared to write her first letter to him.

_Dear Jack,_

_Let me start by apologizing for my silence. I have traveled for days, across continents, trying to come up with something to say to you after our parting, but the words never came. Now, in my exhaustion, I fear they won't stop but I must write to you all the same. I hope that you’ll be hungry for any news from me and bear my ramblings with your usual resigned grace._

_I cannot stop thinking of the last time I saw you. It has seen me through some terrible days with my father. Whenever I grow short with him, I hear your voice, calming me down, smirking at my pain, and it gives the man another 24 hours of life. When past memories don’t work, I move on towards future plans with you. I find those just as soothing._

_When we last spoke, I threatened you with the whole of the world but the truth is, after seeing it with these fresh eyes, I am left wanting._

_Does that surprise you?_

_It surprised me._

_There was a time when I would have given anything to travel the world like this. But the young girl who longed for riding camels through the desert and elephants through the jungles, sailing the seven seas, and sleeping under new stars each night had nothing and no one to lose. It would appear that I am no longer that girl._

_I don’t know how it happened, but I managed to grow roots in the very place that I had been running from my entire life, the place where all my shadows lived._

_That’s a lie, Jack. I do know what happened: I met you._

_You helped me bury the shadows. We put them in the ground next to Janey and I can never repay you for that. You gave me enough peace to center myself again and in your absence, I feel aimless, despite my known destination. I don’t remember ever feeling homesick before and so I must credit this new sensation to you. (I’ve accredited_ _several s_ _ensations to you while I’ve been away, actually.)_

_Jack, are you blushing?_

_Good. You should be._

_You’ll find my address in London below should you wish to write back. (I hope you will.) I am required to be there for a few weeks of familial obligation before returning home. The time cannot fly fast enough._

_Apparently yours,_

_Miss Phryne Fisher_

OOOOO

Jack had read her letter more times than he would ever care to admit. He’d started his reply several times but was never satisfied with the result. (He could practically heat his home through the winter with the number of discarded drafts that he had thrown into his fireplace.) Finally, he gave in and vowed to post whatever emerged from his pen, eloquence be damned. She would understand.

_Miss Fisher,_

_I was indeed quite ‘hungry’ for your letter, as you put it. I’m glad to hear that you are safe and making good progress. I will confess to blushing a bit at your letter but you have reason to blush yourself so we’ll call it a draw._

_It’s strange that you should write of seeing the world and feeling homesick. Lately, one particular quotation from Henry VI, Part II has been plaguing my thoughts:_ _“For where thou art, there is the world itself...and where thou art not, desolation”. (A bit dramatic, but we can’t fault the Bard for that; that was his task.) Just know that I am feeling just as aimless as you claim to be._

_While it is true that the world seems somehow... lesser in your absence, I’m soldiering on as best I can. Criminals seem to have gotten the message that you are away so I’ve been at the station more than I would like. Don't worry, I’m saving the best stories for your return. You should do the same. See everything there is to see and bring back the stories for me. You may not see the value in it at the moment, but do it for that young girl anyway. She’s not so far gone as you might think._

_Take care of yourself,_

_Jack_

OOOOO

Phryne read Jack’s letter for the tenth time and sighed.

He _knew_ her.

He knew precisely what she’d needed to hear, even down to the use of her name that she’d been missing. How did he do that?

She longed to stare into that stoney face of his until she unlocked him like the puzzle he was. She wanted to break him, and be broken by him. She wanted him, all of him, more than she could stand.

Instead, she was facing longing months on a ship back to Australia.

They had made good time and arrived in London just before the weather had begun to turn for the winter. There was no way her plane would have survived the rough journey home so she’d sold it. She had planned on buying passage on a ship with the cash, but the thought of wasting any time getting home was more than she could bear.

She needed to be home.

OOOOO

_Dear Jack,_

_By the time you receive this letter, I should be on my way home. I sold the plane with the intent of sailing home but I just can’t seem to wait that long. You know how impatient I am on my best days, and let’s be honest, these are not my best days. And a new plane is my treat for dealing so ably with my parents._

_I have been dreaming of you, Jack. Long dreams where I am lying in your arms on the chaise in the parlor, telling you my tales and listening to yours. I interrupt you with the occasional kiss and you taste like whiskey. They are simple dreams, but I wake up with damp cheeks all the same. Do you dream of me? Don't bother responding, you can tell me in person. It won’t be long now._

_Still yours,_

_Phryne_

Jack set down the letter and rubbed his stubbled face. He’d had a long day and even longer night and the sight of her letter in the stack of neglected mail had been a welcomed sight.

Working 15 hour days used to be a means to avoid his marriage, and then to avoid coming home to an empty house. But once she came into his world, he’d done it to be closer to her. And it had been fun and exciting and a constant challenge. Now he just was doing it to burn time until she came home.

Jack knew full well that he was overdoing it. His most recent murder case had involved children and he’d devoted all of his time to solving it. He also knew that Collins was keeping a wary eye on him, probably instructed to do so by his wife. But the case was solved and Phryne would be home soon. It was time to start putting his life back together.

Russell Street informed him that he would be staying home tomorrow. (Today, he corrected himself with a glance at the clock.) He would sleep, tend his home and garden, and maybe read this letter a few more times.

It wouldn't be long.

OOOOO

As Phryne set the plane down on Australian soil, she felt herself physically relax somehow. She was here. If nothing else, she could be on a train and in Jack’s arms in only a few days. As it was, she had other plans. She handed the plane over to the care of the maintenance crew and headed inside the hanger.

“Nice flight from Jakarta?” Another pilot asked.

“Extremely. The weather was perfect.” She smiled.

“Where to next?”

“Tomorrow I head home to Melbourne.” She replied.

Home. This was what she had discovered on her travels. She kept referencing Melbourne as home. For the first time in her life, she felt like she was meant to be somewhere else and her travels were only temporary.

“Need a ride into the city? I’m heading in now.” He asked.

“That would be lovely. Thank you.” She picked up her luggage. “Do you know the Victoria Hotel?”

“Every pilot in Australia knows the Vic. That where you staying?”

“Yes.”

“Alright then. I’ll get you there. This way.” He nodded gallantly, holding out his arms towards the door.

OOOOO

A telegram had been sent to the station first thing that morning and Jack had taken it into his office, not that he stood a chance of hiding his reaction from the young men around him, even at simply receiving the thing.

SURPRISE. LEAVING DARWIN NOW. BE HOME IN TIME FOR TEA.

He briefly wondered if there were any point at all in staying at the station (certainly no more police work would be done today) but for appearance’s sake, Jack told Collins he was busy and shut his door.

OOOOO

Jack was waiting at the airfield, leaning back against the hood of his car, when he spotted her plane coming in. He held his breath as she landed and watched as she hopped out of the cockpit and removed her gear with the practiced ease of someone who had been flying nonstop for months. She slowly walked towards him, taking her time to examine him as she did so. She was relishing in the moment, which was rare for her, but he knew why she was doing it. He didn’t move, happy to let her have her fill of him. When she got within touching distance, he stood up properly.

“Miss Fisher.” He tipped his hat towards her.

“Jack.” She was looking at him with a relief that he couldn’t quite believe had been reserved for him. They stared at each other for a long moment, wearing what he was sure was a set of matching dumbstruck grins.

“How was your trip?” He asked her as his eyes raked over every line of her face.

“Shhh.” She instructed, placing her finger on his lips and licking her own in anticipation. When she was good and ready, she leaned in and kissed him. He pulled her in by her waist and her hands clung to the lapels of his coat as he tasted her again for the first time in months.

When the kiss finally ended, she placed her forehead against his, never breaking their hold.

“Welcome back, Miss Fisher.” He whispered more tenderly than he’d planned.

Phryne closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She smiled as she opened her eyes again.

“Take me home, Jack.” She requested sweetly.

“It would be my pleasure.” He replied.


End file.
